When Nothing We Say Will Heal

Turning towards the week ahead, looking at the shift in the light that IS happening, even when we feel scared and lost and lonely and dark.

I cried a lot this past week, did you?

I felt scared and confused on a number of levels, did you?

I found beauty in the most simple of things, like a candle and a cup of mint tea.

I kept putting on my sneakers and taking just “1 more walk around the block” only to wake and do the same thing.

I reached to people, “ How are you? I ‘m thinking of you. I’m okay. It’s a lot. This is intense.”

And then, we painted and reorganized Milo’s room, giving him a space to perhaps, finally one day feel brave enough to sleep in,

And his hamster died, and there we were again, riding the highs of a freshly painted room full of stuffies and legos and tiny rocks and books,

and then death, and loss of a beloved, beloved best friend.

I’m here for it. All of it. Descending into the roots of my strength and resilience, I pause and ask for guidance. Let love flow in.

As we snuggled into his barely used twin bed, I put my hands on my heart and felt his breath on my cheek, his little hand crossed over my body. Fingers touching mine. He exhales and is asleep. I’m wide awake. I can smell the day on my body, the shower that never happened, the water was running when the cry, “Mama!” came.

I hear from within my own body, “This is the moment you have been waiting for” and I question” THIS?” “ Yes, she says. YES.” I smile.

It’s true.

This right here, in cozy cotton Gap size large moon and stars pajamas, with a little hand wrapped around me and the awareness in THIS moment, that nothing is a given, that in a week, in a moment, in a breathe, everything can and will change. But here I am.

Alive and noticing and listening, listening, listening.

I wonder how many years of life I may have left? I wonder if I’ll get to this love and life thing for a long time or a short time?

I wonder if I’ll see 80. I remind myself to record some things for the community, and start the text study with the books on my desk.

Then I come back to the room.

I lay there beside him, smelling a tiny bit of paint, dust, it’s not quite cozy yet, this room we created for him.

I am still in the pause before the exhale. I hear him faintly, I feel my own body breathing. I bring a force of radiating love to my heart and I shower us both with it, in my head I say “ let us feel your love, let us be comforted in this love.”

How this movement connects me to all other parents, for all of time, we have curled themselves into tiny beds, to be a comfort and support for someone they love.

My wish for the week ahead is that we all find this comfort in someone or something we love OR that we are able to be this comfort for someone we love.

And that from this comfort, we see clearly OUR NEXT RIGHT ACTION TO TAKE IN THE WORLD.

Blessings for a week of peace and clarity, tears, grief and gratitude and for us all to have spaces to be together ( even if zoom) and hold each other’s hands across these screens.